


Third Time's A Charm

by SugarPill



Category: Trigun
Genre: Blood, Canon-Anime and Manga Blend, Darkfic, Gen, Heavy Angst, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2908208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarPill/pseuds/SugarPill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many more bodies would it take? Just one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time's A Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case the tags didn't make it clear, this story contains VERY frank discussion of suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, and completed suicide. If these things will upset/trigger you, please do not read this. 
> 
> Originally published on FanFiction.net on 2.6.2007, edited 12.29.2014.

In my one hundred plus years, I have tried to commit suicide twice. 

The first time, I was barely a year young in technical terms, but I carried the wisdom and burdens of someone much, much older. After my brother and I discovered what had happened to Tessla, Knives fainted dead away, but I… I was left to deal. Rem had always told us that humans and plants could coexists peacefully because we all had the same hearts. But after seeing my sister like that, her dismembered body suspended in jelly, her pale eyes staring back at me as her insides were revealed for the world to see… I decided I no longer wanted to have a heart. Because if humans had hearts, and humans could do _that_ , well then… I was better off dead.

So I tried to starve myself. For almost two weeks after Rem found us, I refused to eat anything. She would come every day with a tray of food and place it front of me, but I wouldn’t touch it. And while, day after day, she brought food, and day after day I refused to accept it, she would just watch me. I know she could have forced an IV into me, fed me intravenously through a plastic bag, but she didn’t. If nothing else, this speaks volumes of her endlessly compassionate nature. She wanted me to make the choice for myself, counting on me eventually regaining my will to live on my own. She couldn’t have been more wrong. 

But after those two long weeks, I started to crack. My will was beginning to weaken. I was so very, very hungry. 

One day Rem was carving an apple into sections in an effort to entice my appetite. But it wasn’t the fruit I was eyeing hungrily. I had realized I needed a new plan if I was going to succeed. So when Rem carelessly put the knife down within arm’s reach, I pounced. 

I seized the knife and brought it with all the speed I could muster towards my throat. I would slice open my own jugular and bleed to death, dying with the satisfaction that my heart, the thing that I had come to despise the most, would do the deed by pumping my blood from my body. I would rid myself of all ties to humanity and the evil they represented, and then I would finally be free, and everything would be so much better…

It took me a few seconds to process why I suddenly couldn’t move my arm any closer. Rem had grabbed the blade, stopping my movement. And when I struggled and tried to pull the knife closer she only tightened her grip, the sharp edge cutting into her palm, splattering both Rem and I with her warm blood. 

She told me evenly in her melodic voice that this wasn’t what I really wanted. I was worth too much to simply throw my life away. I was taking myself too lightly. If not for the severity of the situation, I think I would have laughed. I was taking myself too lightly? 

She didn’t know the half of it. And she would never understand. 

In a sudden infuriated rush, I ripped the knife from Rem’s grasp. The swinging arc the blade made as it sliced through her flesh threw spraying lines of red across the infirmary. I was mesmerized by the blood; how effectively it covered everything with tiny splotches, how thick and hot it felt as it dripped from my hands, how beautiful it looked smeared upon the cold tile of the sick bay, mingling with her dark, pooling hair… and then I noticed Rem was lying on the floor. At first, I was confused. 

But then I realized, in my haste to jerk the knife away from her, I had stabbed her in the gut. 

Looking back on it, I think it was the shock that finally snapped me out of it. I had never meant to hurt anyone else. I had never meant to hurt her. I panicked, thinking that I had just killed the woman that had become a mother to me. I dropped the knife as quickly as I had seized it and rushed to her side, tears streaming from my wide eyes and washing the blood from my face. 

I vowed I would never try to kill myself again. I would never hurt myself or anyone else like that ever again. No pain was worth all that horror, all that blood…

It would be almost eighteen years before I tried to kill myself again. This time it wasn’t nearly as deliberate, but it was all the same in the end. 

After the SEEDs fleet had crashed into this dusty planet, Knives and I wandered the desert for years. We watched from afar as human settlements sprung up from the sands. They were crude and fragile, but they were there. The humans had survived. Knives never allowed us to get too close to those towns, but insisted that we stay on the outskirts. I thought it was because he was looking for one town in particular and that we just hadn’t found it yet. I assumed that we would eventually find a home, and we could live there with the humans in peace. 

It is hard to believe that I was so naively and completely stupid. 

One day we came upon the wreckage of a SEEDs ship. It was a lopsided, half-buried behemoth, the sharp hull rusting away in the harsh sun. From the fleet number still barely visible on the metal, I could tell that it was a small auxiliary ship. Not a large cruiser, like ours had been. But standing in the ship’s jagged shadow, slowly regarding the wreckage, I couldn’t help thinking of Rem. I didn’t want to be there. It only served as a towering reminder that she was gone. 

But Knives marched right up to the ship and began searching for a way inside. I watched as he finally found a hatch and pried it open. Before stepping through, he told me to stay there and wait for him. And then he disappeared inside. 

I waited for a full year before he returned. 

I thought many times about going in after him. I wanted to know what was taking him so long, why we had traveled for years to just find a rusting ship in the desert. Why we had passed up all of those welcoming towns. But I stayed put, hunkered down against the hull. I had to stay because he was my brother, and brothers never abandoned each other. He had told me to stay, so I would. I wouldn’t betray the only person I had left. 

When he finally did come back, he walked right past without giving me a second glance. I quickly followed him, pelting him with questions that he didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked up to a cliff overlooking the nearby town. I hurried after him, but before I could reach the cliff, a terrible light exploded in front of me, nearly knocking me to the ground. I could barely make out Knives standing with his arm outstretched, silhouetted against the light that was engulfing the town. 

And then it was gone. Shaking, I stood up. At first, what I saw didn’t make sense. Behind Knives, I could see complete and utter devastation where the town was supposed to be. Where the town was supposed to be…

There was no town any more. 

Knives brandished a black gun, what looked like a Colt .45, but there was something different about it. He started talking about power and our right to assume our supreme position over the humans. Then he handed me an identical gun, only this one was silver. He told me that it was mine, he made it for me. He said I could use it to channel my energy, to wield ultimate power… to blow up towns. 

Suddenly, I understood. 

Then Knives started to laugh, a maniacal sound that was all jagged edges. It was the same sound he made while we were watching the ships splinter off in flames, while we watched Rem and the crew die in the cold, dark depths of space. The same sound that has since haunted my dreams. 

I screamed and tackled him to the ground. We wrestled a few moments before he regained his footing and kicked me in the face. He was always the stronger one. Then he chastised me, like I’d done something silly like forgotten to do the grocery shopping or pick up after myself. Like I was a child. Like he didn’t just wipe out an entire town of innocent people. 

The next thing I knew, I was holding the gun Knives had given me as I watched my brother scream and clutch his bleeding leg. His face was a twisted map of agony and betrayal, yelling that I had shot him. I’d shot him. From the smoke rising from the end of my gun, I knew it was the truth. 

So I left my brother bleeding on that cliff and ran into the desert. I ran away. It didn’t matter where I was going or where I ended up. I just knew that I needed to get away from there. I needed to get away from Knives. 

Days turned into weeks, and my run had slowed into a trudging walk. I was without water, food, shelter, or purpose. I had shot Knives, my own brother. And my own brother had killed hundreds of people and then laughed about it. I knew that Knives would never forgive me, and I wasn’t sure that I could ever forgive myself. So I kept walking, to avoid facing reality. To avoid facing the fact that I was now truly alone for the first time in my life. 

Maybe if I walked far enough, I could fall off the edge of the planet. 

But I was so very tired. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep and never wake up again. So when it became too much to put one foot in front of the other, I simply dropped to the sandy ground. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep. It would be better this way. So much better… I surrendered myself to the darkness and waited until everything fell away. 

As I quickly drifted into unconsciousness, I had no way of knowing that I would soon be discovered by a small group of people crossing the desert. I had no way of knowing that these people, instead of leaving me to rot in the sun, would rescue me. But they did. They gave my oblivious body water, slung me over a toma, and carried me to their floating city in the sky. There, they nursed my body back to health, and when I awoke, they became like family. They loved me, and I was grateful. But it wasn’t the same.

They couldn’t replace my brother, or the hole that his absence had created in my heart. They couldn’t replace Knives.

So, over a century later, I went looking for my brother. I felt convinced that I could change him, I could make him see that humans weren’t evil, they were mostly just frightened and confused. They could do so much good, if only he gave them a chance. But with each redeeming trait I presented, he would quickly counter with and equally damning flaw. 

Slowly, I began to realize that I was failing. Knives kept pushing, and I pushed back, and yet, people continued to die. Hundreds of them, thousands, until it was impossible to keep count, impossible to wash the blood from my hands, impossible to bear the guilt ripping my heart to shreds… slowly, I began to realize that Knives had been right all along. 

People never change. 

_July…_

_The Gung-Ho Guns…_

_Augusta…_

_Wolfwood…_

_Legato…_

_The girls…_

How many more bodies would it take?

I stand over my brother, studying him. It still amazes me how much we look alike, even though we’re so different. His face, his wiry frame, his hands… like a mirror image turned inside out, or a photo negative with all the wrong colors. His eyes are just like mine, the fear I see in them a reflection of the terror I’ve held in my heart for so long. His blood, dark red release, is my blood as it pours from the fresh hole in his head. 

I palm my silver Colt, the metal warm to the touch. I’ve made my decision. This way, humanity will be safe. This way, everyone will be saved. It’ll be better this way. So much better… 

_How many more bodies would it take?_

Just one. 

As I press the gun barrel against my temple, I think of an old phrase Rem used to say…

What was it again? 

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath… _so much better…_

Oh, yes.

“Third time’s a charm,” I whisper. And then I pull the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this because for Vash being someone who "disapproves of suicide more than anything", he sure has attempted it a lot. Trying to starve himself and then slit his own throat after he and Knives discover Tessla stands out as the most violent attempt, but if you think about it, every time that Vash wandered out into the desert with no provisions (after his first confrontation with Knives, after July, after the Fifth Moon) could be counted as suicide attempts, in that not caring whether your live or die can have the same result. It's a more passive way to go, and would make Vash feel better about not breaking his promise. Do I think Vash would ever realistically commit suicide? No. But I started to wonder what conditions would need to be met for Vash to theoretically do so, picked the two attempts I thought were most credible, and this was the result. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://hersugarpill.tumblr.com/).


End file.
